The Lost Ones

Chapter 1

"She keeps looking over at us," Kit whispered, discreetly directing his friends' eyes to the young, pale teenager wearing a faded purple tankini and black shorts sitting on the opposite ledge of the top deck pool.

Rin, Chris, and Alessandro, who were all immersing their legs in the pool water darkened by the evening sky, casually looked over at the girl sitting alone. She was wading her legs, gently swinging them back and forth, and her eyes were glued to the ripples. However, it was clear that she was trying to make eye contact with them.

"No, man. She's looking over at you," stated Alessandro, the youngest of his friends. His sand-colored, wavy, short locks contrasted with his straight long bangs. He playfully jutted his elbow at Kit's side.

Chris, whose hair was as dark as a mountain crevice with subtle gold highlights, added, "Yeah, she's wondering why you're the only one not in your swimming trunks. She wants to see those abs."

Rin laughed. "What abs?" he jested.

Kit rolled his eyes. It was hard to take anything they said seriously. After all, they were his closest friends, brothers to him, and he knew they only had his best interests in mind.

Instead of sitting with his legs inward in the pool, Kit faced the opposite direction of his friends, his legs and sneakers remaining on the dry, turquoise-painted deck. And instead of being shirtless with a swimming trunk, he was fully clothed with khaki shorts and a thick, grey hoodie.

"I don't know why you don't wanna swim. We are supposed to be on vacation," commented Chris, leaning back to rest his elbows on the ledge of the pool and peering over at Kit. "You gotta live a little."

"You know why I can't," Kit calmly replied. He continued to watch the other cruise passengers roam around the deck.

"No, we know why you won't," Rin retorted, to which Alessandro quietly agreed to. "They said you have to try to relax and do things normally. It doesn't help if you keep avoiding things."

Kit just ignored their prodding. "I'm cold, alright?" he explained, which was more or less a lie. "It's too cold out here to swim." His dark, brown bangs that were flopped over his forehead was brushed to the side by an icy breeze. "And it seems like the wind is starting to pick up."

"Yeah, yeah, stop making excuses," muttered Alessandro, but with a hint of sensitivity. Although he joined Chris and Rin in their well-intentioned but somewhat pushy encouragements, he was more understanding of Kit's situation. "Just come in with us. We're about to play Marco Polo."

Far from relenting, Kit let out a sigh and pulled himself up to get a non-alcoholic drink at the bar, so he wouldn't have to listen to them pester him any longer. "I don't even have my swimming trunks on," he pointed out. "They're back in our cabin."

"Oh, good, then when you go down there, make sure to fetch me my lucky watch. I don't trust the housekeepers enough to leave it there," Chris called before completely submerging himself into the water.

Kit quickly took a step back when he saw the huge splash come his way. He turned and walked away with a soft grin when he heard his two other friends join Chris in the water and create more massive tidal waves that made the other passengers shriek. Tucking his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, he made his way towards the stairs to the lower deck rather than the bar. At least they're having fun. It's not another trip I could ruin for them.

Before leaving the crowded open-air deck, he peered once more at the pool and the radiant smiles of his three friends.

And that was the last thing he saw before the surface beneath his feet suddenly shook, before all the lights in the cruise flickered off, before he tumbled down the flight of stairs he could no longer see and fell unconscious.

⸸ ⸸ ⸸

Kit could feel the burning open gash on his forehead. His throat was dry and his head pounded wildly. Unable to open his eyes, he blindly felt the ground around himself with his hands. Cold, wet sand. Not a good sign. Tiredly moaning in pain, he slowly stirred and awakened to the sound and the push of the rough waves at his legs.

When he finally opened his eyes, he could see the last of the blue sky disappearing behind the stormy, grey clouds. A low roar of thunder echoed in the distance.

Get up, he pleaded to himself. You need to find shelter before the storm comes.

He attempted to stand, but his right ankle gave in and he fell to his knees, the bare bloody skin hitting the sharp stones buried in the sand. He cried out in pain through clenched teeth, wrapping both of his hands around what he realized was a broken ankle.

His heart fell into despair. Not only was he washed up on an island, but he was also badly injured. Something warm and damp trickled down his cheek and he became furious at himself for crying. But then he realized it couldn't have been tears because he was undoubtedly dehydrated. Shortly after one or two drops of rain, it began to pour down hard, followed by a long rumble of thunder.

Kit forced himself up, placing more pressure on his uninjured leg, using what was left of his strength to fight against the weight of the drenched clothes that stuck to his skin and made him feel ten times heavier. He wiped the sand from his eyes and frantically looked around for a place to shield himself from the winds that were starting to pick up.

Further up the muddy, sandy hills, he saw an enclave made of stone. Perfect! Kit limped towards it, beginning to feel sick to his stomach. Having an injured leg during a task of survival was no help at all.

The cave seemed to be getting further and further, but Kit continued to trudge towards it. A heavy wind blew and it was as if a million hands grabbed him mid-air and yanked him back. He drew his arms closer to his chest to warm himself. I'm almost there, Kit told himself, not realizing his legs had stopped moving.

Within a few seconds, he collapsed on the sand.

Get up, he pleaded to himself. But his exhausted and aching body was telling him to give it up.

After about a minute of debating whether he should let himself die, he thought he heard a voice in the distance. Oddly enough, he could hear it clearly through the roaring of the winds.

God...? It must have been God telling him that it was okay to let go.

Soon the voice turned into something else that made Kit jump back up on his feet. It was a female's voice calling for help. It almost sounded like...

"Someone, please..." the voice called.

It can't be. Kit began to frantically search for the source of the voice. The pleading voice continued to echo in his ear and Kit was no longer sure if it was real or not, whether it was really her.

"I'm coming!" Kit began shouting over the screaming winds. "Hold on!"

He finally spotted something half-buried in the sand close to the cave he had been heading for and carefully hurried towards it, cringing each time his ankle weakened.

As he got closer, he realized it wasn't who he thought it was. It couldn't have been. But it was another person. The first thing he spotted was the back of the unconscious person's faded purple tankini. It's that girl from the cruise! Relieved to know he wasn't completely alone, he ran as fast as he could towards the girl. He had to make sure she was okay.

He dropped to his knees, digging into the sand that concealed the rest of the poor girl's body. It's okay, I'm going to save you. I couldn't save her, but I can still save you. Despite the throbbing pain from his ankle, he carefully heaved the girl out of the sand and made his way towards the cave to safety.